Absolution(99)

He felt a shudder go through her. He waited, his heart sitting in his throat as he stroked her arms, afraid of hurting her. She seemed so fragile.

Finally, she lifted her head. Her beautiful eyes, more blue than green now, were brimming with tears. She nodded, setting them free.

He reached up to brush a stray wisp of hair away from her face, trying not to think about what might have happened if Callum hadn’t found her in time. This homecoming would have been so very different.

“I’m glad you’re here. Nothing else matters except that,” he said gently. “We’ve got a shot at something really special here – a second chance. Not everyone gets one of those.”

She sniffed, trembling in his arms, as he pulled her close. He laced his arms around her, needing physical verification that she was still here, still breathing. The need to simplify everything was overwhelming. If he held her close, it wasn’t so frightening. If he held her close, he could keep her safe.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you then, but I’m here now.”

He felt her give herself to him, physically. He braced himself as she laced her arms around his back and he buried his face into her hair.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into his shirt.

He smoothed her hair under his chin, her heartbeat solid and steady against his own.





CHAPTER 18




“Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.”

- Soren Kierkegaard




“I think that’s it,” Ally announced finally, fitting the lid onto the full container of sea sponges and handing it to him as she directed him to the shelf on which they belonged. Adding the container to the many others already there, he turned to face her, running his hands along his jeans to clean them. It felt good to be involved in something as mundane as cleaning her studio with her. He looked at it as a metaphor.

Then he spied the ripped canvas leaning up against the opposite wall. Was that a metaphor too? “What are you going to do with that?”

She stared at it for a moment. “Trash it.”

“Wasn’t that the painting I saw the other day, the work in progress deal?”

The easy conversation of moments ago abruptly disintegrated.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just paint over it? If you didn’t like it, I mean.”

She shrugged again, turning her attention back to him. “I don’t know. Guess I didn’t feel like starting over.”

He nodded, anxious to keep the mood light. “Temperamental artist kinda thing, was it?”

“Something like that.” She smiled fleetingly, arranging her legs and laboriously getting to her knees. She pushed herself up into a crouch, using her hands to balance for several moments, her face a picture of concentration.

“Can I help?” he offered, readying himself.

She waited a moment before pushing herself upwards and backwards and he heard the locks snap into place as her legs straightened. Bent in half, she quickly checked them by hand.

“No, I’m fine.” She dragged her crutches towards her, using them to push herself upright. “I know it looks awkward, but its fine. I do it all the time.”

“It doesn’t look awkward,” he lied.

“Yeah it does.” She slipped her arms through the cuffs. “Believe me, if I could figure out how do to this gracefully, I would. But, y’know, it is what is.”

Her movements were all military precision, yet her tone was one of casual dismissal.

“Well, it sure impressed the hell out of me. You make it look easy.”

“Do I? I guess that’s something then. All those months of practice paid off.”

Months of practice.

He pushed aside the guilt and concentrated on the achievement. She smiled at him and it forced the guilt further into the background.

Last night, he had lain awake, trying to remember where he was three years ago. He came up empty and it bothered him. Where the hell was he while she was trying to end her life? Every town/job/apartment seemed interchangeable. Reluctantly, he realised that it wasn’t important where he was. It was over, it had happened and he hadn’t been there.

Then he recalled the argument they had had before she had thrown him out. He had asked about the yoga mat, and she had retaliated, throwing him off-centre. After finding out about her suicide attempt, whatever was going on with the yoga mat seemed minor by comparison. But he still owed her an explanation, one she had every right to ask for.